


"the earth delights to feel your bare feet"

by ninanna



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ereri Week, Historical References, Introspection, M/M, Melancholy, Nostalgia, Pining, Summer Vacation, Travel, geography porn?, lots of mentions of the Aegean and the Mediterranean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 07:45:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4052026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninanna/pseuds/ninanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>As they pad towards the beach, Eren explains with his usual unusual delight; "It means 'dead sea'. They call it so because apparently this part of the coast is peaceful even when the most violent storms shake both the Aegean and Mediterranean. As if it's dead..."</p>
  <p>Yet the blue turns turquoise turns aquamarine and when Eren walks into the sea, like a rightful heir returning to his kingdom to be crowned, confident and familiar, the sea hugging him and pulling to herself, Levi thinks this place couldn't be any more alive. He teeters between astonishment and alarm at the sight, for he is astonished of Eren's very presence and being yet he is alarmed for an irrational reason that this person will magically be consumed by the sea, lost forever.</p>
</blockquote> <p>(That story set during a summer vacation in one of the most ancient and beautiful regions of the world yet filled up to the brim with longing and melancholy, searching restlessly-- searching for roots, for blossoms, for meanings, for oneself, for history, for future.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	"the earth delights to feel your bare feet"

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been feeling self-conscious about my writing for quite some time, the various health problems I deal with on a continuous basis not helping at all… I wrote this for the Day I prompt of the Ereri Week ("Pining"), but I almost decided to not publish. However, dear [tanekore](http://tanekore.tumblr.com) heartened me to publish it and I’ve decided to dedicate this to her. I hope you like it; the world needs more people who are so kind and sweet like you.

 

He reminds himself that he has come half way around the world to shed some stress and finally come to terms with the fact that he was rather cruelly dumped.

 

It was definitely not to pine after a twenty-something random adonis.

 

Yet there is Eren Jaeger with all his youthful brilliance and captivating persona, and there he also is, Levi Ackerman, miserably socially inept neurologist, recently—if five months counts as recent that is—single, thirty-five years old, harbouring a crush. A disgustingly unwarranted crush on Eren Jaeger, that is.

 

But how could he not?

 

How could he not when Eren’s tawny skin seduces even the sun and his eyes shine azure with the sea yet emerald with the forests. How could he not when Eren’s laughs are alluring bursts of pure joy and his smiles manage to calm even the wildest winds. Levi has never been elegant or eloquent, in fact his sense is so crude as to include toilet humour to Valentine’s Cards—no wonder he was dumped. Yet he feels like waxing poetic to the beauty and spirit of Eren Jaeger from dawn to dusk, perhaps draft a holy book for this new god of spring he has discovered in the heart of the ancient sea…

 

It is silly.

 

It is silly and childish and so very improper of him but it doesn’t help to cure this stubborn illness, when Eren chuckles at Levi’s meagre and surely shitty attempts at comedy and seems genuinely interested whenever Levi can achieve some semblance of a ‘chit-chat’. They even share tea sometimes—as in that Eren joins Levi for an afternoon tea now and then; it seems they two are the only tourists in this cruise who enjoy tea. These moments that always pass too fast are what Levi yearns for the whole day.

 

It is in one such afternoon on a Friday, when they still have a whole week of stay in Crete that Eren mentions he’ll ditch the rest of the group for a detour in Turkey. Just as the figurative wound opens inside Levi, Eren beams. No blush visible on his dark cheeks but his fingers clumsily scratching his nape as he suggests, voice sheepish but full of unabashed expectation, whether or not Levi would like to join? Levi coughs in answer. He coughs and mentally punches himself for having the grace of a middle schooler in love. Hell, the thinks, as he realises how wet his palms are getting that the cup he is holding in his hand will almost slip; probably even the middle schoolers are smoother than him these days.

 

“Sure,” he manages to respond followed by a mandatory large gulp from his tea to cover his face and Eren grins. He outright grins—not a bashful smile or confident smirk but a grin with innocent cheer of a child and Levi feels his heart tumble down into his stomach, sinking deep onto the moist tissue, peacefully, heavily and though the idea is both anatomically impossible and horrifying, it also feels nice and overwhelming at once.

 

They share numbers.

 

That night, lying on his bed idly, Levi keeps staring at the entry on his contact list that simply says “Eren”. It is probably very creepy but he is alone in his hotel room so he does not care. The only problem remains is that he actually does care; he does not want to be head over heels for an almost-stranger whose favourite dessert he may know (“künefe” which is apparently the Turkish version of knafeh) but actual age or occupation he still has no idea of. Yet he cannot help the bubbling in his chest and ends up sending a text to Farlan that says “I’m doomed”.

 

He indeed is—he recognises by midnight, because he just accepted going out of his way to a country he has never been before, with someone he does not know well (or at all, almost), only because he has been terribly infatuated. He tries to assure himself, because on one hand, it can’t be too bad. He is an adult. He has seen and experienced a lot. He has travelled a lot. He knows three languages—he assumes he will be able to communicate somehow over there. He has more than enough money to last him three lifetimes. He is a black belt in judo _and_ aikido. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Eren kidnapping him to harvest his organs? That sounds like one of those stories Isabel posts online.

 

His phone vibrates and he sees Farlan has replied:

 

**Good luck! ;)**

 

Levi curses him with an awkward smile on his lips, which Farlan has likely foreseen somehow; old friends who cross the line of being friends and have become family can be scary in how easily they can read you. He wishes Farlan was around though; Levi is good at judging life-and-death situations or treating cluster headaches, he is definitely not good at judging people and treating heartbreaks. Farlan on the other hand is amazingly talented at reading people and is cunning; he can be a great wingman, though he also complains and overanalyses a lot which can be a problem but that could be fixed by Isabel’s presence. If only little Toño was not teething, they could have tagged along.

 

\--

 

Eren does not talk on the ferry, his eyes hypnotised by the Aegean, a tune that Levi does not know hanging off his lips in mumbles. It is soothing, almost like a lullaby. He wants to ask what it means or what its name is, but it feels as though he would be intruding. It is as if Eren is alone and sharing a moment with the sea herself, rest of them and the ship only insignificant specks in the air.

 

Levi closes his eyes and there is only the soft blowing of the wind caressing his face and Eren’s voice, still murmuring a chorus; “ _sto pa ke sto xanaleo…”_

 

 

\--

 

They arrive at Marmaris, a town of the Muğla province according to the map.

 

At the first look, the Marmaris harbour is a lot similar to the ones they’ve been in the Greek islands. Yet Eren’s eyes almost gleam the moment they arrive and the way Levi’s heart hops at the sight of his companion’s hardly contained euphoria confirms to him that he made the right decision by coming along.

 

The old city is similar to what he has seen so far in the Mediterranean and Aegean as well; white houses scattered like a single architectural entity, curving and separating almost, narrow pathways of stone, flowers and trees—the smell of sea still strong even on land. Eren inhales this scent again and again and smiles after each time and Levi wonders if this mysterious brunet is some sort of a legendary marine creature; it is as if he belongs to the sea rather than the land and longs to go back.

 

They stay in an old mansion turned ‘boutique hotel’. Levi thinks, the word “mansion” is a bit too extravagant for the cosy, two-storey structure. It is nice though: walls painted pristine white and window panes a rich blue. Much to Levi’s contentment, it has AC. The bedding is simple but impeccably clean and he can see the shore from his room’s window.

 

It is even nicer once the sun sets and the night settles over them and the stars shine—the stars Levi could never see back at home in the crowded cities that are in perpetual haze of pollution, hiding the celestial miracles behind an ugly yellowish sheen. Eren knocks his door and asks if he would like to take a walk. He does. Of course, he does but his enthusiasm is held in carefully and his words are neutral. They saunter down to the pier and watch the sea. The full moon regards them with a watchful and loving radiance.

 

“Yakamoz,” Eren murmurs somewhere in the night when the silence has befallen over them after the long hours of careless chatter. “That’s what they call the sea sparkle; they are actually these microorganisms that shine when disturbed… they cause the lights.” Eren moves his head towards the right side and Levi follows the direction with his eyes; blue twinkles bloom in patches across the sea like a magical sign of a momentous event. He is in awe as Eren’s soft and nostalgic voice continues; “I heard they were also called sea ghosts… The shining on water I mean… But we call them ‘yakamoz’ in Turkish.”

 

“Yakamoz,” Levi repeats subconsciously and hears Eren happily sigh.

 

It is a beautiful word.

 

\--

 

 

They rent a car.

 

The road is empty and the scenery delightful. Levi drives because Eren feels the need to take a photograph of every view he finds marvellous, which happens almost every fifteen minutes. Normally, Levi would be frustrated; he has every right and reason to be but it is impossible when Eren smiles bashfully, pleads with his eyes and explains what is so different about every picture in clumsy words. They mostly don’t make sense but the way his voice trembles with mirth makes a lot of sense. Levi doesn’t ask why or how, but he agrees that there must be something special; unfortunately solely for Eren. Fortunately, as hours pass, Eren becomes something more and more special for him. Or perhaps that’s unfortunately too, Levi broods, watching the road while Eren finally dozes off for a bit on the seat next to him and the time blinks on the dashboard.

 

Köyceğiz is nice but what mesmerises them is Kaunos. The ancient city is large; one can envision its days of glory and expansive richness despite it being anything but scattered ruins now. The view atop is spectacular. Outside the main site, the rock tombs seen across the river are Levi’s favourite. He cannot imagine why one would want to have such a place of demise as it seems so eternally lonely; turning into dust within enclaves of cold stone, the only way out of this prison perhaps being swept away by a compassionate wind, after spending centuries to dwindle into the tiniest specks… It intrigues him in a terrifying way.

 

When they arrive to Fethiye, sun has set, the road was actually quite short but thanks to all the detours and stops they made, it took them a scandalous full day to reach their destination. The pastel blues of the twilight embrace the town and the lights wink at them; Eren giggles for no reason and Levi smiles, despite the fatigue that has seeped into all his bones, he smiles for no reason.

 

\--

 

 

The next day comes with slight breezes and beaming sun, only tiny patches of clouds here and there in the sky.

 

After the usual Turkish breakfast of black tea, bread, olives, sliced tomatoes, and feta cheese (which Turks call “white cheese” according to Eren), they walk down to the beach from the modest hotel they are staying.

 

Eren inhales the scent loudly and dips his feet to the water gingerly—neither too excited nor too nonchalant but rather as the beginning of a pleasant transition from one of his natures into another. Levi lowers his gaze and watches the calm waves wash over dark skin, toes wiggling as they try to catch water in a futile attempt, wet sand moving in tandem with the current… He has never been attracted to feet in his whole life, but staring at Eren’s feet playfully caressed by the water, he find them beautiful; not flawless, but beautiful with the small scars and sun-bleached thin hairs.

 

“Come on,” Eren says then, interrupting Levi’s impromptu moment of silent worship rather rudely.

 

Howbeit, he follows.

 

Levi thought their day would be spent at the beach but instead it is spent walking around the town and then driving outside. After a lot of tapping on smartphone screens and some Turkish signs Eren reads half-right and half-wrong, they make it to an ancient tomb carved in rock. They climb through the green pasture and sit at its steps; or rather, Levi sits while Eren outright lies down and closes his eyes as if to take a nap.

 

“You know,” Eren wonders out loud, eyes still closed but hands idly caressing the ancient stone, “they say this place was built in 350 BC.”

 

“So?” Levi asks after gulping down all the water in his bottle. The noon has set and the sun is unforgiving, none of the cloudlets has been able to survive either.

 

“It’s just—“ Eren pauses, opens his eyes and purses his lips, Levi assumes the conversation is over but it is not, after a few seconds of further deliberation, Eren tries to explain, “can you imagine how many people may have seen this place? Touched it? Walked around it? The people who built it, the person inside it, and now us visiting—it’s been so long. All those people… All those times…”

 

Eren’s fingers clutch on the rock that was shaped many centuries ago… it is as if he wants to catch something, feel something—something Levi does not know but would like to know. He desperately would like to know so that he could relate better, so that he could become closer. And Levi’s own fingers itch to grab Eren’s to capture something, feel something—something knows very well because he can feel it blossom in the pit of his stomach against his better judgement.

 

So Levi digs his hands in the pockets of his capri pants and sighs while Eren closes his eyes once again.

 

\--

 

 

They drive to a ghost town, which apparently also stands in the place of yet another ancient city, just like every single place in this country, it seems. The tourism guide they have says once the village was populated by Anatolian Greeks, who lived there until the early 1920’s when the population exchange between Turkey and Greece forced them to leave.

 

Eren disappears soon in the middle of their stroll around the dreadfully empty place. Grass is lush, fiercely growing everywhere, trying to swallow the remains of what were once homes. Sun is still looking down upon them bright and clear; it should not feel bleak but it does, so forsaken and forlorn. It makes Levi recall and think of things he does not want to recall or think.

 

Half an hour later, Levi finds him in the empty church, crying. Eren’s sobs are softly echoed in the olden hall, or perhaps they are echoing in Levi’s ribcage, he’s not sure which, but he knows that it hurts. He does not stay there, he should not have witnessed this—it is not his to witness, so he stands at the entrance outside, waiting for Eren to finish. His hands tremble. It pains—to be a stranger. It pains.

 

If only he could hold Eren. If only.

 

\--

 

 

When Levi says “Blue Lagoon”, Eren corrects him sternly: “Ölüdeniz.”

 

It takes four tries for Levi to pronounce something that at least resembles the original sounds. Eren giggles all the while; it is not condescending, on the contrary he is visibly glad of Levi trying so hard which has a very positive feedback.

 

As they pad towards the beach, Eren explains with his usual unusual delight; “It means ‘dead sea’. They call it so because apparently this part of the coast is peaceful even when the most violent storms shake both the Aegean and Mediterranean. As if it’s dead…”

 

Yet the blue turns turquoise turns aquamarine and when Eren walks into the sea, like a rightful heir returning to his kingdom to be crowned, confident and familiar, the sea hugging him and pulling to herself, Levi thinks this place couldn’t be any more alive. He teeters between astonishment and alarm at the sight, for he is astonished of Eren’s very presence and being yet he is alarmed for an irrational reason that this person will magically be consumed by the sea, lost forever.

 

Then from not so far away in the water, Eren turns to him and grins, happy and playful, and calls for him to come, that it is nice and warm, and the relief sinks in Levi. He sheds his clothes and lets the sea embrace him in a way he has never experienced before because Eren is there—Eren is with him.

 

\--

 

 

The night is calm and the sea is calmer. After spending an hour explaining Levi which stars are named what, tracing constellations with his fingers as though he is exposing secret paths, recalling the many myths told about the heavenly bodies, Eren falls quiet. Levi does not ask for more; he is content with Eren’s speech and speechlessness alike. The whispers of waves hit their toes together as they lie there on the sand, so very near the sea, staring above, so far away.

 

Eren starts humming a melody then which eventually leads to words that Levi can only half-parse; “beulbeulum… kafeste…”

 

Only when Eren’s murmur of a serenade has ended does he dare shift and look at Eren, who has closed his eyes though still facing up the star-studded night sky.

 

“Bülbülüm altın kafeste,” Eren says without the musical tune, “it means ‘my nightingale in golden cage’; it’s a folk song…”

 

Levi takes this as the only answer he will receive and turns his head back to the darkness hanging above. He does not expect Eren to say, “my grandmother used to sing it a lot.” But Eren does.

 

He surely does not expect Eren to start singing it again, voice tremulous but so genuinely feeling, intoxicating simply for that reason alone, a bit louder this time that the words are fully audible to Levi, even though he does not understand the language, but not to any passers-by. The rising and falling of Eren’s tone pull his heartsrings and he aches, rather pleasantly so.

 

\--

 

 

They see the “Butterfly Valley” first atop, from the road and it looks like a hidden corner of paradise.

 

They couldn’t be any more wrong; there’s nothing ‘hidden’ about it when there are too many people coming in and out. Thankfully the nature is still wondrous and the shades of the sea that play in front of them soothing. Every time Eren spots a butterfly, he whispers loudly with glee, his eyes widen so much that it’s almost comical. Levi wishes he could snap these moments into tangible pieces—or however tangible digital pictures stored in a mobile phone can be—but he stops himself. It’s inappropriate he feels, not only because of the uncertainty of what is between them but also because those moments and Eren seem somehow meaningful specifically because they are so fleeting. Like butterflies, he muses wistfully.

 

He expects them to leave this beautiful place just as they entered, but something happens. Something unexpected and as wonderful as the nature surrounding them.

 

They are climbing onto some rocks, to get a better view, Eren is leading and offers a hand to pull Levi up, which is completely unnecessary but Levi takes it. This polite act is not what happens that burns Levi’s hand and heart alike.

 

It is that Eren continues holding his hand throughout the afternoon, until they get into the car.

 

\--

 

 

The road back is the opposite of their journey so far. Eren is eerily quiet, his eyes glued to the changing scenery outside the window. It does not feel stuffy. The silence is not uncomfortable. But it feels sad. As if a certain melancholy has infused into the air. The day is as cheerful as it could be with a cloudless sky and shining sun, but it is as if they are stuck in a café in London, heavy rain and gloom outside. It is as if it’s not the birds chirping that is heard from outside but the noises of busy traffic downtown.

 

“It is beautiful,” Eren declares some time later, “this place… these places are so beautiful.”

 

Levi nods and hums affirmatively but he can sense the pain running through Eren; it is in the mournful tinge to his voice, longing gaze of his eyes. Levi too knows that sometimes beauty instils pain.

 

After they arrive in Fethiye once more, car is parked and they are ready to get out, but Eren does not. He is sitting in his seat, still looking outside and lost in thoughts. Levi clears his throat mostly because he is getting worried. He does not know what is wrong, he does not know how to make it right, he does not know what to say. But then the fates take pity on him, it seems, for Eren turns to him, daze dripping off his face, asks timidly:

 

“Should we continue to Bodrum?”

 

They talked about that town a night ago in their chat though the idea of going there didn’t come up at all. They were supposed to stay the night, then drive to downtown Muğla the next day, and then separate.

 

“Sure,” Levi agrees and life finds its way into Eren; he blinks and smiles, his eyes tired but something in him obviously kindled. It kindles something in Levi too; a sort of compassion he only feels for the dearest ones. It is unfathomable how this young man finds his way around Levi’s heart so well—it is unfathomable and very terrifying yet Levi feels at peace, his agitated nerves now relaxed, worries allayed somehow.

 

“But first we do a pit stop here, buy more water, and eat.”

 

“Yes, first we eat,” Eren accepts with a smile that is so beautiful that it makes Levi ache.

 

\--

 

 

Eren hums and whistles and mumbles and finally outright boisterously sings to the songs on the radio. Levi recognises that he has a slight accent when he sings Turkish songs, it sounds different than the singer’s.

 

“Levi,” he pokes Levi’s shoulder and Levi rolls his eyes behind his sunglasses.

 

“Are you happy?”

 

If he was not so perfectly skilled in control of his body and if the road wasn’t so empty, he would fear causing an accident. The question strikes him. It strikes him unready and vulnerable.

 

“Yes,” Levi replies, tone almost dismissive just to dismiss how heavy the question still weighs on his shoulders.

 

“You’re happy?” Eren repeats then, voice serious and Levi realises that the truth matters a lot. It matters always, perhaps, but in that moment it should not be veiled even slightly.

 

“Yes,” he responds once more, louder and certain, his eyes still on the road.

 

“Good,” Eren murmurs thoughtfully, staring at him.

 

\--

 

 

“Halicarnassus,” Eren starts while sitting on the ground facing the great theatre thousands of years old, and Levi completes as he’s read it already on the Wikipedia a night before; “The ancient city that existed here before?”

 

“Yeah,” Eren confirms but does not continue. Levi is stunned for a moment with the sight before him; it is strange, he has been staring at the ages old structure but after a certain blink, after a certain idea that surfaces in his mind, it is as if he is watching a different view, a different place, a different era. It is as if the place is crowded, hundreds eagerly watching, holding their breaths… He suddenly wants to go see a film or a play. He suddenly feels as if they are not alone there but they actually are—the weather is so scorching hot that it seems most tourists chose the beach over antique ruins. He suddenly feels the history rub onto him; realises how much these stones have seen—mute they be, but they must have witnessed tragedies and happy endings, lovers must have whispered confessions to each other, great actors perform legends, children amazed… He is almost in a trance, he is almost time-travelling in a bizarre way where his body stays there and then, but his soul has flown away to the days of yore. Then Eren starts again, in a calm but heavy voice that seems to tell more than what it is actually conveying in words:

 

“Herodotus, the famous historian was actually from Halicarnassus… he was forced to leave the city later though. How terrible, right…”

 

The words widen and shrink and widen in Levi’s mind but he cannot decipher if there is indeed a different message there as well. When he shifts to glance at Eren he finds him looking at the decrepit structure before them but also not; he is staring at a memory, Levi can comprehend that much but what kind of a memory it is he cannot know.

 

He steps closer and crouches down near Eren; their arms touch but neither budges at the contact. After a few minutes of quiet, Levi moves his hand to pet Eren’s back and Eren snuggles then, leaning onto Levi on the side; his tan skin smells of the sea salt and his brown locks faded by the sun smell of rosemary.

 

“It is terrible…” Levi admits, he has never faced anything as such but he can imagine how it must be. He has had terrible experiences of his own; he knows the pain and horror of running away if not being cast away. He cannot share something so intimate yet and he has never been talented in comforting others, so he says what he knows, even as cliché as it sounds, even as helpless as it may be:

 

“But life goes on.”

 

He half expects Eren to be mad at him. He half expects Eren to be sarcastic about it—if he was told the same, he himself would surely be. He half expects Eren to shrug or worse yet shrug him off physically too. He half expects something profound yet unseen to be broken because of his foolish words.

 

Instead Eren grips on his shirt tightly and nods.

 

\--

 

 

The sun is setting, leaving the sky in a gradient of orange and the sea shimmering with similarly warm colours. The chatter of others in the beach is audible but Levi’s ears are focused on the waves’ rushing and Eren’s breathing, the latter almost in tandem with the former. Eren’s fingers brush his on the sand. They don’t hold hands but instead their restless fingers keep touching here and there, Levi knows how closely it resembles the fitful infatuation simmering inside him and wonders if it is so—if it could be so for Eren too.

 

Levi likes sunsets and despises sunrise. It was at sunrise that his mother would wake and leave him alone in the single bed they slept together when he was still a small child. She worked double shifts to support the both of them which meant that she would not come back until midnight. Levi would turn and toss in bed for hours, delay the breakfast that he knew his mother always left on the kitchen table before going to work. When the sun set, however, he knew that most of the day had been gone and less left until his mother’s arrival. He would clean the house as much as he could and count the hours, wait for her even though she always told him not to. He couldn’t help—the fear of her not coming back one night, it kept him awake.

 

He likes sunsets because in the only off day his mother had, Sundays, they would always take a walk to the nearby park before sundown, homemade snacks in clear zipper bags with them. They would sit on a bench and eat and tittle-tatter. She would tell silly stories to make him laugh and comb his hair and hug him.

 

He likes sunsets and everything is perfect until Eren says, “Sorry.”

 

Levi pulls back his hand as abruptly as his insides shudder with hurt.

 

“What?”

 

“I’m so—“

 

“I heard you. What are you sorry for?”

 

Levi is staring at him hard but Eren’s eyes are on the seascape still, though Levi knows that Eren is listening, that he is not lost in some far away memory or thought—that Eren is with him but still facing elsewhere for an unknown reason.

 

“Why?” He repeats again, voice less wounded this time, softer.

 

“I—“ Eren begins but the loudness of his voice soon disappears, he cannot continue and his hand comes to grab his own hair. “I,” he tries again, “dragged you here out of blue and you spent all that money and time and—I’m sorry okay. You probably thought it would be a fun touristic trip but I’m weird and I made it all weird. So I’m sorry for dragging you with me.”

 

“Eren.”

 

Eren looks at him then and Levi can see how his fleshy lower lip is trembling; this lovely young man he has been so heavily, so ridiculously enamoured with is unconfident. For the first time since Levi has met Eren, he finds him look so insecure and uncertain. Thus, before he speaks, before he replies and clarifies, he gives Eren the most certain gaze he can manage.

 

“You didn’t drag me here, I came here.”

 

When Eren blinks surprised, Levi repeats, tone calm and absolute, “I came by my own decision and I am very glad that I did.”

 

“You…” Eren murmurs.

 

“Yes?”

 

But Eren simply stares at him instead of answering—simply stares and as the seconds tick, Levi feels as though he is sinking, as though the sand he is sitting on is devouring him slowly. Eren chuckles then. It is so bewitchingly sincere and charming that Levi cannot help his parted lips, gaping.

 

“Can I then,” Eren tries, leaning in so slightly, “say thank you at least?”

 

“You don’t need to,” Levi blurts out but when Eren’s lips purse, his mind is quick to add; “but if you want to, yes, you can.”

 

“Good then, Levi, thank you. Thank you very much for… coming.”

 

For a second there Levi mistakes—he thinks he saw something in the depth of Eren’s eyes and the gentle curve of his lips, but whatever he thinks he saw could never be possible.

 

\--

 

 

He has always despised airports.

 

The first time he went to an airport was when they were running away with his mother. That whole morning and the weeks before and after were so terrible and as a child, he had ended up associating all that mess with airports. As a result, airports called bad memories in him. The continuous practice, which is flying too many times due to medical congresses, has thankfully made these awful remembrances rarer.

 

He is sitting there in an airport café, drinking a cup of cappuccino because he refuses to drink tea from a teabag, while reading a story on his iPad.

 

“Do you mind if I sit?”

 

He recognises the voice before even he sees the face. Eren Jaeger is smiling at him, standing in front of his table, a canvas messenger bag on his right shoulder, one hand in his pocket and the other holding the handle of his carry-on baggage.

 

“Yes,” Levi manages to say despite his surprise. It is quite a coincidence and frankly he never thought they would meet again.

 

“Waiting for a flight?” He asks as a conversation opener, not that he is skilled at these but he assumes it is as decent as any. Eren removes his messenger bag and puts it on his lap after taking the seat across Levi.

 

He smiles uneasily before nodding a yes and then pointing to the untouched glass of water. “Do you mind if I?”

 

“No,” Levi answers and Eren takes the glass in his hand, finishing half of it at once.

 

“I’m waiting for a flight,” Eren confirms verbally and puts the glass back in front of him—Levi realises how the glass stands right in the middle between them.  It is unnecessary for him to repeat and Levi is about to change the subject when Eren continues, “to JFK.”

 

“To New York?” Levi asks, further surprised.

 

“Yes.” Eren says, “I live there.” Levi cannot help but gawk and Eren scratches his nape.

 

“You didn’t tell me.” Levi summarises after this initial shock has diminished.

 

“Yes,” Eren repeats.

 

Levi’s eyebrows rise and fall and he nods to himself before reaching for his cup of coffee.

 

“You won’t ask why?”

 

“Do I need to?”

 

“You don’t need to.”

 

“You didn’t have to tell me.”

 

“I told you many other things though.”

 

“Like you are from Germany.”

 

“I am from Germany. As I said, Berlin. I moved to New York a year ago for my PhD. I did not lie to you about anything; I hate lies.”

 

Levi shifts on his chair; it is at least some relief that he hasn’t been so utterly fooled. He has to concede that it was a detail he himself never pushed Eren about—he shouldn’t have to, he thought and still thinks.

 

“Okay. Anyway, I never specifically asked it either.”

 

“You didn’t, but you did bring up topics close to it…”

 

“Fine but you didn’t disclose anything and I didn’t actually inquire.”

 

“Yes. I didn’t want to after you told me where you lived and I realised we were pretty close by.”

 

“Okay.” Levi considers, he cannot help the discomfort but it confuses him too so he questions; “Why are you telling me now then?”

 

“Because I didn’t know you then.”

 

“You don’t know me still.”

 

“True, but can one know another fully anyway? Probably not. I still know more than I did before.”

 

“And thus you trust me?”

 

“Not necessarily. But I don’t distrust you either.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“You’re not offended?”

 

“No. It makes sense.”

 

Eren laughs then and reclines on his seat; his shoulders that were stiff five minutes ago are relaxed.

 

“I didn’t want to tell you because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be friends. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to have conversations with you again, once this whole… ‘thing’ ended.”

 

“And?”

 

“And I think I would like to. If you would like to, of course.”

 

It is Levi’s turn to make himself more comfortable on his seat and regard Eren thoughtfully—not because he wants or needs to think about it but it calms him down and is apparently entertaining to both.

 

“Maybe.” Levi remarks after an unnecessarily long pause and taking another sip from his coffee right after, as though it is the full stop of his sentence. Eren does not seem disheartened or offended, instead he grins.

 

“Hmm, what if I tell you more about me, and you got to know me more, then that ‘maybe’ could turn into a ‘yes’?”

 

“Possible.”

 

“Great.  I have… assuming we are on the same flight, three hours? Do they have proper tea by the way?”

 

“Just Tazo teabags. Cappuccino is not bad though.”

 

“Then I’ll get a cappuccino too… so where to start…”

 

“Wherever you like.”

 

Eren’s fingers start tapping the table as he tilts his head, thinking.

 

“I know,” he smiles a second later, the tapping stops and he signs to the waiter. “I’ll tell you about my grandmother.”

 

“Your grandmother?” Levi cannot say he is unhappy about it but it is a strange subject.

 

“Yes. My grandmother Fatma, who was a teenager when she was forced to leave Thessaloniki.”

 

“Alright.” Levi agrees and hides the smile on his face by a strategically timed sip of his coffee as Eren begins recounting.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Here are some references that may give you more clues into the fic (and generally give you pleasure of knowing?):
> 
>   *          “Sto pa ke sto xanaleo” is a Greek folk song. You can find a beautiful recording of it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1tVg-UmEBWw). The song has very beautiful lyrics too so I’d highly urge you to check them out, [for example here](http://lyricstranslate.com/en/s039to039pa-ke-s039to-xanaleo-s039-039pa-kai-s039-ksanaleo-i-told-you-and-ill-tell-you-again.html). I wrote most of the fic listening to it and its meaning factored in to the themes and imagery as well.
>   *          [Here is what Marmaris looks like](https://www.flickr.com/search/?text=marmaris&sort=relevance).
>   *          [Here is what Kaunos looks like](https://www.flickr.com/search/?text=kaunos&sort=interestingness-desc).
>   *          [Here is what Fethiye looks like](https://www.flickr.com/search/?text=fethiye&sort=interestingness-desc).
>   *          The tomb from 350 BC is [the “Tomb of Amyntas” and looks like this](https://www.flickr.com/search/?text=tomb%20of%20amyntas&sort=relevance).
>   *          The ghost town is [Kayaköy in Fethiye and looks like this](https://www.flickr.com/search/?sort=relevance&text=kayakoy&advanced=1). [Turkey and Greece performed population exchanges where many Christians and Muslims were forcefully moved and made refugees by the two governments due to nationalist agendas](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Population_exchange_between_Greece_and_Turkey). It is a terrible memory for the Anatolian Orthodox Christians and Greek Muslims; there are many sad folk songs about it and in many instances people moved built towns or villages to resemble the ones they left behind.
>   *          [Here is what Ölüdeniz looks like](https://www.flickr.com/search/?sort=relevance&text=oludeniz&advanced=1).
>   *          [Bülbülüm Altın Kafeste is a folk song from Thessaloniki or Selanik](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4sGTFbGyvmQ), one of the Greek cities heavily affected by the aforementioned population exchange. As a result many of the folk songs, including those unrelated to the population exchange itself such as this one, hold rather significant cultural value and often feature nostalgia in their modern retellings.
>   *          [Butterfly Valley, or Kelebekler Vadisi as Turkish speakers call it, looks like this](https://www.flickr.com/search/?sort=interestingness-desc&advanced=1&text=kelebekler%20vadisi).
>   *          [Here is what Bodrum looks like](https://www.flickr.com/search/?sort=relevance&advanced=1&text=bodrum).
> 

> 
> Finally, the title of this fic comes from Khalil Gibran's wonderful "The Prophet".


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